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#learn to be alone
heterorealism · 7 months
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Society, with its age-old narratives, often pressures women into believing that their worth or safety is intertwined with partnering with a man. But it's crucial to challenge this notion. Embracing solitude isn't about isolation, but about understanding and valuing oneself outside the context of a relationship. It's about ensuring that if and when a woman chooses to be with someone, it's born from genuine connection and not from fear or societal expectation. By learning to be alone, women can cultivate resilience, self-worth, and independence. It's a journey of self-discovery, where one can confront and dispel fears, and truly understand what it means to be complete on one's own terms. So, to every woman reading this: cherish your solitude, for it's a sanctuary where you can truly understand that you are enough, with or without a partner. 🌙✨ #StandAloneStandStrong
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without-ado · 2 years
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(via)
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columbine-01 · 1 year
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I need to learn this:
Anybody can please teach me...
Perhaps, by MySelf!!
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mymidwestheart · 1 year
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ca-d · 11 months
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sigh lol
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qourmet · 2 months
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the more things change, the more they stay the same
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tatretot · 30 days
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this hat was made for scar specifically 🔧
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pien-art · 3 months
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Little Moiraine and baby Anvaere 💫
(click image for optimal quality)
prints available here !
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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Get Their Ass.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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poppedbubblgum · 7 months
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The battle nexus is a rather lonely place…
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heterorealism · 7 months
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nelkcats · 8 months
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Fenton Street Food
"You know what's better than being a superhero? A street food vendor! Yes, superheroes can save the day, stop villains and receive hatred or admiration as the case may be, but a street vendor? They are at the heart of the action, fulfilling their dreams! They traveled the world feeding the masses, and even met superheroes, feeding them to keep them doing their duty, food carts are the centerpiece of keeping the heroes alive, they are the heroes..."
Maybe if Danny repeated it enough times he'd start to believe it, though seeing the monstrosity that was the Fenton food cart he highly doubted it. More so because it had fucking guns hidden next to the mutant and very alive Hot dogs (which by the way were not sellable, they were the mascots of the brand).
It all started when Jack Fenton talked about his dream of delivering his favorite food around the world, that fueled Maddie Fenton's idea, and since Jazz was in college and Danny was on vacation no one could stop them.
Soon Danny became a victim of his parents' eccentricities. Although the halfa had to admit that selling in Gotham was a lot of fun, thieves didn't think it was worth mugging him and the Rogues themselves bought his food of dubious origins.
It was almost a shame to have to change cities because Batman was getting too suspicious but Metropolis was waiting for him. And he would be back eventually; some bats who had enjoyed his strange roving food stall had waved him off with handkerchiefs, wiping away fake tears. Danny appreciated it.
Besides, Red Robin affirmed to him that he would recommend him to Superboy, so he wouldn't run out of customers anytime soon. He wondered if he should stop by Central City, the Flash Family ate a lot didn't they?
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2-eeillustration · 3 months
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At last--- Humanformer Nightshade!! NS has by far one of my favorite designs and coming of age episodes out of all the Terrans, I hope I did them justice!! For their casual look I tried to marry a little bit of medieval outfit design w/scientific theming and I think it worked (first pose inspired by one of the renders I found done by Sebastian Contreras on Artstation ; https://artstation.com/artwork/5vok5A)
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muffin-snakes-art · 9 months
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So I made another Wallpaper Engine thing, this time with Mistilteinn and Magolor! Not only can you adjust how the wallpaper can be displayed, you can also squish Magolor to make him talk! By default, the particle effects will be unchecked in case your device can't handle it.
Here's the link to the Steam workshop item!
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Lost and Found (dp x dc)
Alfred sighed as he looked over the wide gymnasium, thinking to himself that he shouldn’t have listened to Leslie. Community service was all well and good as a way to connect with people, but overseeing an inter-school bakery-sale-and-science-fair combined event was proving to be more chaotic than anything else.
As another child dropped yet another just-bought desert on the floor, Alfred slunk into the shadows deciding to let the clean-up be someone else’s task for once. As he got further and further from the main hubbub, the ex(?)-butler arrived near a small exit door and snuck out quitely. As the fresh air hit his face, Alfred let out a breath. Seeing so many children around had him thinking of his charge and where he could possibly be.
The older man hadn’t brought a pack, since he’s been going to a school, but in the moment he wished he had. Sighing once again, Alfred shook off the craving as he took a few steps towards the communal school garden when the sight of a black-haired boy sitting with his back to him had him freezing. A second later his brain caught up to him, reminding him that this was not young master Bruce. The crushing disappointment he felt as he recognized the boy in front of him was much to small to be his little master Bruce surprised him by its intensity.
Alfred took a moment to compose himself before he cleared his throat. The noise had the figure flinching and turning their head towards the older man. Then, as the boy caught sight of the older man, he seemed to slump. Seeing that he was unlikely to speak up first, Alfred took it upon himself to start the conversation.
“Might I inquire what you are doing outside, young man?”
The boy’s shoulder slumped even more though he still answered. “Haven’t got any sweets to sell,” he mumbled.
“Oh?” Alfred sounded out. “Why is that?”
“My cookies ate my homework so I had to put them down,” said the boy as he finally raised his head, long-suffering
But Alfred could only breathe a faint “Indeed?” as the boy’s features were exposed. The resemblance with master Bruce was so uncanny that the butler had trouble looking away. But as he examined him more closely he could see some minute differences. The boy didn’t have the sharp jawline both mister Wayne and master Bruce had shared. His nose was smaller than master Bruce’s and his eyes were paler than the darker blue passed down through the Wayne line. The sight of a face so similar and yet not quite like master Bruce had his mind jumping to the portrait hung above the manor’s fireplace and the face of the toddler sitting on his mother’s lap as a slightly older child stood beside her with his father’s hand on his shoulder.
Everyone had bemoaned the two-fold tragedy of the Waynes. First to lose their youngest son at such a young age, only to be themselves brutally murdered only a few months later. All was left of the previously illustrious Waynes was a grief-stricken eight-year-old who had just lost his brother and parents in such a short period of time. Alfred sighed as he remembered how angry master Bruce was at his inability to find out to this day what had happened to his brother. The man half-suspected this was how the young man had developed such an obsession with solving mysteries.
Once again having to focus back on the boy in front of him, Alfred smiled at the boy. Then, the boy’s word registered and the man let out an amused huff. “You had no choice but to put an end to that, I suppose. Cookies as spirited as yours would sell poorly in any case.”
“Oh you’ve got no idea,” muttered the young man as he pushed himself to his feet only for his hand to slip on the wet wood surrounding the gardening plots and falling face-first onto the hard wooden surface.
“Oh dear!” exclaimed Alfred as he darted to assist the boy in straightening up. The boy groaned in pain as he held his nose and Alfred could see drops of red falling down.
“Here,” said the older man as he handed the boy a fabric handkerchief.
“Thanks,” the teen croaked as he accepted it.
“Put your head between your knees,” Alfred instructed. “Breathe through your mouth.”
The boy offered a thumbs-up as he complied. Alfred waited patiently by the teen as he kept the handkerchief held against his nose. After a moment, the boy held it away experimentally and when he felt no more blood flowing he turned towards Alfred.
“Thanks,” he said before he looked down at the red-stained white fabric. “I can wash it and return it if you give me a return address.”
“It’s alright,” Alfred refused. “I don’t mind washing it.”
“Thanks,” repeated the boy as he handed the older man the handkerchief back, as he got to his feet, this time more gingerly. “I best get back before my friends start looking for me.”
“Be careful on the way back,” Alfred couldn’t help saying.
The boy hummed and as he turned around for a final wave goodbye, their eyes connected and Alfred felt a jolt travel through his body. Though the pale blue of Danny’s eyes was not the distinctive shade of the Waynes, it was however identical to the color of the late Martha Wayne’s eyes. As the boy opened the exit door and disappeared in the crowd of people, Alfred looked down at the blood-stained handkerchief.
He knew there was a less than infinitesimal chance. Still. What would it hurt to make absolutely sure?
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